Discovery
by basscymru
Summary: He wasn't meant to be found. It was meant to be a secret.


Remus lifted the corner of his shirt carefully, watching as his upper body gradually appeared in the mirror. His chest was laced with scars, some old and fading, others brighter and sharper. He took a step closer to examine those which looked irritated, worried they might get infected. He ran his finger across a thin, jagged scratch, stretching from his ribs to his hips, and winced.

The most prominent scar was a bite mark decorating his shoulder. He diligently kept his gaze away from that scar, angry and throbbing under the cool air. It had been that way ever since he could remember, aching vehemently. Over the months and years, he had learned to ignore it, the constant pain numbing over time, provided he kept his shoulder covered and protected. Madame Pomfrey had mentioned something about a potion that may be of help to him, but she had refused to go into any detail.

He was standing in the cramped bathroom of the Gryffindor second year dormitory. Remus thought his friends were busy in detention, and wasn't expecting them to be back for at least another twenty minutes. If he had thought they were going to be around, he probably wouldn't haven't examined his scars, and would have at least had the presence of mind to lock the door.

As it was, he hadn't, and he was dragged out of his thoughts with the slamming open of the bathroom door. "Remus, dearest!" James cried, not immediately registering Remus' shirtless state. Remus froze, and wished he hadn't left his wand by his bed.

James' eyes widened as they drifted over his friend's body. "Sirius…" he called, his eyebrows having shot up into his hairline, and his gaze never leaving Remus.

"What's going on in here, then?" Sirius asked, his voice contrasting sharply with the silent bathroom as he paraded in. He stopped abruptly.

Grimmauld Place was unmistakeably a house full of dark magic. Sirius had spent most of his childhood reading illicit books about illegal curses and half-beings. He would have recognised that bite anywhere. His mouth barely moved as he whispered, "Werewolf."

Remus, who had clung on to some wild hope that neither of them would have worked out what he was, bared his teeth, acting entirely on instinct. He had only one thought, which was _run, run, run._ Sirius began to move towards him, arms outstretched as if to try and comfort him.

He took off, colliding with Sirius as he grabbed hold of his cloak, pulling it on as he sprinted out of the bathroom, out of the dormitory, out of the tower, out of the castle. He didn't pause for breath until he was at the shore of the Black Lake. His stomach turned to water. He felt sick.

It was February, and the lake rippled with small, fierce waves. Remus collapsed onto the ground, holding his knees close to his chest, and watched the water move. The wind blew right through him, but he didn't shiver. He didn't have the energy to shiver. Thoughts whirled around his mind, but he couldn't find the will to analyse any, and allowed them to continue to confuse him.

He didn't know how long he sat at the lake side, but dusk was falling fast by the time someone found him. Again, so wrapped up in his head was he that he didn't realise anyone was drawing near until it was too late to run. A cool hand was placed on his shoulder, and Remus leapt up in surprise, coming face to face with Sirius.

"Remus, _please._ Just listen to me." Remus searched his face for some sign of fear or disgust, but found only concern. "Look," Sirius said, watching his friend warily. "I don't mind. At all. About the, you know, werewolf thing."

"You don't…" Remus blinked. "What?"

"I've been living with you for the last year, and you haven't done anything yet, have you?" Sirius said, smiling uneasily. "I really, really don't mind. James doesn't, either, and I'm sure Peter won't. You're our friend, Remus. We care about you."

Watching Sirius stand by the lake, his round face showing nothing but love and worry, Remus felt something break within him. When he came to Hogwarts, all he dreamed for was an education. He promised himself he would never become close to anybody – the prospect of someone finding out and ripping this new, exhilarating life from his fingertips was too much. Despite this, he found himself drawn in by his new friends, trusting them far more than he should, becoming comfortable in the easy-going environment.

Without his permission, or even his noticing, tears began to slip down his face. The kindness in his friend's open, youthful face tugged at Remus, and he found he couldn't stop the tears. He began to sob openly, slapping his hand over his mouth in a heartless effort to muffle the sound.

Sirius, in wide eyed astonishment, stared at Remus. He'd never watched anyone cry before, apart from his brother, whom he hardly felt counted. But he dredged up the memories, from years ago, of comforting Regulus, and thought he should put them into action. Tentatively, he placed his hand on Remus' shoulder, and waited for a reaction. When Remus did nothing other than continue to shake with sobs, he pulled him in for a rough hug. A damp face was pressed into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around his friend's back.

"It's just not _fair_ ," Remus gasped. "It's just not fair."

"I know," Sirius whispered into his hair, rubbing his hand up and down as soothingly as he could manage. "I know."


End file.
